Category Archives: cooking

Many people who’ve had Brilliant Careers have to work very hard at them.

But sometimes they just fall into your lap. Or you fall into theirs.

And that’s how I discovered my Talent.

My Daughter, aspiring Director, was making a short film ‘The Storymaker.’ I said “Ok I’ll donate the money for on-set food.’

Possibly right then, memories of culinary delights as she was growing up, a nostalgia for times past, overtook her.

More likely she was always on the lookout for a free, reliable worker. ‘How about you come down and do the catering?’

I discovered I had a Title. Unit Manager. That’d look very good on my CV.

I discovered that every day at 6AM the Crew would arrive, feeling very hungry. That they would be busy all day so would need many many cups of tea, coffee, snacks delivered on set for between takes.

And I discovered the Actors wait around, a lot. They’re therefore able to consume great quantities of lollies, chocolate. Amazing since they were all svelte.

A clue to why this is so, after the shoot. The DOP (Director of Photography) said ‘I won’t need to eat for a month after this.’

Ah. So now I know actors are special humans, with camel-like abilities. Fascinating.

I discovered that every afternoon a Call Sheet would be delivered to me. It’s an impressive document. It lists precisely the scenes, time of each scene, which cast or crew is involved. For me that meant how many would need to be kept fortified with tea, coffee, snacks, meals, drinks.

Next day, I discovered that the Call Sheet should have come with the disclaimer…”any resemblance to these stated intentions, will be accidental and hugely co-incidental.”

I discovered that if a scene is going well, there could be a sudden visit from the 1st AD (first Assistant Director) telling me that instead of lunch in an 15 minutes, it’d be in an hour. Then in ten minutes again would come the 1st AD with change of plan. ‘We need lunch, for actors in 20 min. For Crew, in a 50 minutes.’

I discovered my Talent for inventing recipes. If there’s an Olympic Category for innovative, speedy Recipe switching, I’m in with a chance. It was a lot like Demand Feeding, of which I was a proponent in the 80’s. But more menu variations and people involved.

I discovered that Haribo (Bears are excellent but any Haribo good) and Chocolate are essential. That without them the film won’t get made.

Actors have many fascinating tales to tell. They are obsessed with Film, stage, dancing, Haribo bears, and know hardship that they deal with in innovative ways.

Then, 4 years on, Emma’s lives in London. Again my Talents are called upon. She’s shooting ‘Scuffle’. Will I cater again? Love to.

This time I met a group of Dancers as well as actors. Because the film was shot in London, I had to order Good Weather as well as good food. Luckily for my reputation, I was able to deliver on both.

One recipe I served the Cast and Crew was Tuscan Vegetarian Terrine from Dr Heidi’s Anti-Aging Cookbook. There are lots of Superfoods in her book, as they are now called. Dr Heidi was ahead of her time, she wrote that book in 2007.

It’s very important for actors to remain looking youthful. If it’s a long film shoot, actors need to remain looking the same age as when shooting began. That’s called continuity.

Those actors prone to Cosmetic enhancement could save a fortune on Botox and plastic surgery if all Unit Managers knew Dr Heidi’s as I do.

If word got out, Actors would probably refuse to be in any Films at all, unless I was Unit Manager. My Brilliant Career would become Stellar.

But I guess the Actors Plastic surgeons would probably put out a Hit on me then, movie-style. So I’ve decided to work exclusively on Emma’s films, as I like a quiet life.

Being a Director, you can change the way men look. You can put moustaches on them, without anyone crying assault, or control freak.

Here’s an Actor, choosing his Fruit salad. He looks a bit startled. Maybe he’s never had a woman put a moustache on for him.

Go ahead, choose exactly the one that’s perfect for you. Eat with abandon, because I have a feeling things are not going to turn out well for you.

As I predicted, dead.

Gosh, Emma’s taken his moustache off him after he’s dead.

There’s a word for that, I’m sure. I won’t talk about that on this Blog. My readers are sensitive people.

In January 2015, Emma will shoot her first Feature full-length film ‘Papagajka.’

Emma’s written the script and her film will be set in Sarajevo. It’s the first psychological thriller to be made there. It will be exciting to seeing how a year in Sarajevo, doing her MA at FilmFactory under the mentorship of the great Director Bela Tarr, has impacted on her film-making.

Sarajevo in fullon Winter? Not ideal for me or my Brilliant Career. I would be too cold. I wouldn’t be at my best.

I met some of the other Film Factory young Directors when I was in Sarajevo. I discovered that Directors are very into Superfoods, so Emma will find one of them to be Unit Manager, I am sure. I could be UMC (Unit Manager Consultant) if she wants. That would look good on the Film Credits.

Perhaps the film after ‘Papagajka’ could be set somewhere warmer. Montenegro? Albania.

I believe they’re lovely in Spring, fascinating places. I am bound to feel very creative in Warmer climes.

Emma’s film will be funded by her Indiegogo Campaign.

Please go on over to the site #PapagajkaFilm on Indiegogo, and consider donating. There are some unique, fabulous Perks.

Gosh, Emma looks very good. She looks about 21. I think it’s all those Superfoods. You can see ‘Papagajka” in Sarajevo, in the background! Read about the Actors, Adnan Omerivic I met him in Tusla. And Susanna Cappellaro

The Crew, Aleksandra Niemczyb, I met her, she’s also into Superfoods. So she’ll be around for a long time, making Artworks. Look at her website, I love ‘overheard – overlooked’ oil on wood works. And Guy Fixsen, wonderful with Soundscapes. That’s what the Sound, Music is called, I discovered. I’ve met him, too. Talented Annika Summerson DOP, Emma’s excited she will on her Project.

I discovered those are the perks, too, of being Unit Manager. Meeting diversely talented people who are, and will be, Filmmaking Greats.

And finding out all their food quirks. But that’s a story for another blog!

Thanks Kevin for being on his list of those nominated for the Versatile Bloggers Award. I don’t know if this nomination had Capitals, but for here, I have chosen to give it some.

Anyway, here are some of the many things that I find Overly Fascinating, just on the verge of full moon early in February 2012……

The Language of Flowers….Once there were no Texts or emails and people relied on letters and words to stuff up communication between the sexes. Before that, writers claim, would-be lovers communicated their feelings with bouquets of flowers, with each flower having a specific meaning.

These bouquets were called Tussie Mussies. I can only imagine the monumental miscommunications these must have caused! A peony posy and a few dandelions misinterpreted and you could have found yourself married to the wrong man…or a woman! Or two men! Or celibate for life! Gosh! …Makes my love life seem tame really……

What inspired these thoughts? A book by Vanessa Diffenbaugh ‘The Language of Flowers’ …about love and fear and flowers. Vanessa wrote “My skin lifted under his gaze as if the surface of my body were reaching toward him without the permission of my mind.’ How I wish I’d written that!

A fine way to begin the weekend with The History of Madness in Brisbane a local history session at Brisbane Square library this Saturday…

Hmmm, I’m thinking of differing historical views of madness….

Friends Hospital in Philadelphia described madness as ‘people deprived of the use of their reason’, and treated patients with active therapeutic gardening.

Yet Sam Harris, after publication of ‘The End of Faith’, received tens of thousands of emails and letters from people of all faiths and doubt, ‘who believe that the most important moral questions facing humanity today are not able to be answered by reason.’

What about the passion of Luang Pu Boung Leua Souriat who depicted his unique vision of spiritual life in an astonishing giant size cement statue garden near Nong Khai in Thailand. Do you find this reasonable? And what of his devotees who continue to maintain his vision after his death?

And Edward Wilson’s Biophilia Hypothesis described our affinity with nature as innate, essential, part of our biology.

So maybe those who don’t regularly go into nature are in danger of madness?

Richard Louv, author of “Last Child in The Woods’, describes children who don’t spend time in nature as having Nature Deficit Disorder…

And Gardeners….what of our madness? We lose sense of time and probably reason, as we give ourselves over to the passion of gardening. We believe our plants communicate with us. We fall in love with plants, wonder where and how l they’ll fit in our gardens? But we love them, find a place, learn their needs.

Sometimes gardens have their way. They create a living work of art. This one’s at Ayutthaya in Thailand, the head of a statue enclosed within the roots of a Ficus tree.

Gardeners are taken with strange ambitious projects that consume us and make our friends smile fondly (mostly…) and maybe wonder just a little, as we confess our sudden inspiration to grow a…

Frangipani Forest ! Yes indeed. I had many frangipani cuttings, and a sudden vision overtook me! Of a colour wave of frangipanis, kept to 2 and a half metres high, a perfect canopy of fragrance and colour, their deciduousness to remind me of cooler climates, and maybe my Grandmother who grew them…. Madness? Memory? Inspiration? …Sometimes inexplicably linked.

And People with Passion ….inspire us to lateral or amused thoughts, to keep us mainly sane….

Think of visionary gleam, one of my fav bloggers, who honours plants and flowers that look like football teams. Oh, have a look at that one! Fabulously nutty!

And me so thorny……now he ‘s a funny one! But is he mad? Not in blogging world…maybe blogging is therapeutic? And if therapy is needed, is blogging madness? Oh I can see where this is heading….

Then appreciation of delicious, a blog by a Filmmaker, of things pleasing to her eye. Some quirky, amazing finds from creative talents in art, photography, fashion. Keep an eye on the progress of the author’s films, too. Think on ‘The Storymaker” and latest ‘Campers’ – Art that ‘has the capacity to generate different meanings without ever being completely consumed.’ (Umberto Eco.)

Now over the last few months, I have come to appreciate the concept that neighbours may potentially become confused when aspects of adjoining lives are glimpsed in cosy moonlit backyard…chocolate scrabble playing, idle and not-so-idle chat, pumpkin picking rituals, memorial ceremonies for my Companion Animal, practicing Modern Jive, other such fanciful-ness.

So, to avoid neighbourly confusion, I have become Overly Fascinated with…

Garden Rooms, the concept of creating private, enclosed spaces within a garden..using hedges, vines, green walls. Now I believe I read that in Germany and Switzerland it’s mandatory for all roofs that are flat to be Green Roofs, now that’s just sensible, and lovely.

My Garden Room is to be purple Honeysuckle climbing sides of a pergola, with a golden Duranta hedge on other side.

Another has begun to be walled with jasmine and passionfruit, completely climbing over this immovable

children’s fort that came with my new bare backyard. My very own Folly, complete with Ship’s Wheel.

And as there are other things in life than gardening….

I am also Overly Fascinated with…..

Becoming a versatile, playful Ceroc dancer..maybe even sultry if I can be bothered going to any workshops.

and reading ‘Damned’ by Chuck Palahniuk, which begins ‘Are you there Satan? It’s me, Madison. I’m just now arrived here, in Hell……’. Hilarious, contentious. And he wrote ‘Fight Club’ too, among many others.

This has reached the tipping point of versatility…..I hope you enjoy this in several readings and tell me what you think……

A story of lives and histories enmeshed with those of plants and trees, of bravery, secrets, difference, love.

Lovely plants….

Heartsease.….used in early times to ease heartache and suffering.

The flowers are edible..I float them on the top of my home-made salad dressings.

I lightly press some heartsease flowers into the dough just before I put bread into the oven to bake.

I put a couple of heartsease on the tops of lemon-cream cheese iced cupcakes. So pretty!

Purple Honeysuckle….folk-lore says that the twining flowers of honeysuckle represent loyalty in a friendship – or loveship.

My purple honeysuckle anticipates being planted and waits patiently in its pot. It’s already flowered once with pinkish beginnings , almost purple if you have an imagination which certainly I do, and deep gold flowers. It’s underplanted with sweet purple and white alyssum and new seedlings. The tag showed petunias in pink, purple and white profusion. I enjoy the mystery of petunias, that so often both the colours and scent of this plant friend surpass my imaginings of them..as do many of my human friends, in fact…

creamy yellow flowers, fragrance like ripe bananas. Perfect for us, as we are banana starved here in Queensland at present.

How lovely to discover…

Lovage growing in my potted garden. I had planted lovage after discovering some on a market trip with dear friend Effie, and frankly it had not thrived.

So I forgot about it, then was amazed to find it growing beautifully. I delicately trimmed some leaves, with thanks to the plant, and whipped up a little

LOVAGE OMELETTE

I mixed together: 2 eggs, 1 inch thick slice madhusudan paneer ( I love the sound of that, that’s why I buy it from my local Spice Shop) diced small, 1 tspn whole grain mustard, salt (not too much, My lovely Daughter says I may eat too much salt, I told her gardeners sweat so they need salt, but she may be right. She often is, and thanks to her this blog looks good again. Sorry for the delay, technology was getting the better of me. You might like to detour over to her latest post, appreciation of delicious @nonsense funnel for some dreams of loveliness), lovage, a tiny bit of marjoram, and lots of pepper.

I cooked in a small frypan oiled with Olys, a new one I bought, made from wheat germ, rice bran, blackcurrant, walnut oils.

It was delicious eaten in a leisurely manner reading ‘What I Talk About When I talk About Running.’ Haruki Murakamis running memoir, a book about how he became a writer in the same way he became a runner. I am enjoying this, and I quite definitely don’t enjoy running, but will think on this idea when on my morning walks for a while and see what I come up with…

A week ago, I developed an intense, overwhelming desire – that would not be waylaid, no matter how I tried – to make pumpkin soup. And not just from any pumpkin. This soup had to be from a pumpkin that I had grown. Oh yes. It just had to be, my dream insisted.

However, I am presently out of home-grown pumpkins, since I am ‘in transit’ and my garden consists of an ever-expanding population of potted plants. My delightfully muscular friends who move me at a regular intervals will have to really go into training to lift this lot.

Now, from my extensive gardening experiments, I believe that pumpkins will not grow well in pots. So, I had not attempted this brave task. Therefore, no pumpkins nurtured along in preparation for this time of pumpkin need. Oh dear.

So I thought, hmm, maybe it’s the orange-ish, pumpkinish colour I want. Perhaps that will satisfy?

Therefore, I decided to make carrot cake. And yes, it was delicious, with that cream cheese slightly lemony icing, that my daughter finds so delicious. (For this, you mix together 125 g spreadable cream cheese, 5 tspns butter with about 1 tblspn hot water mixed into it, icing sugar, and lemon juice, to taste. Spread on carrot cake. Thickly, but not too thick.)

A consenting adult and I enjoyed great gluttony of that carrot cake with pretty cups of tea that afternoon, with the sun warming the back patio and Natasha the Wonder Cat reclining nearby, as she does so appealingly for approximately 22-and-a- half hours of each day. We ate so much, a two-hour walk at Sandgate barely touched the extra kilos!

But, no, still I needed pumpkin soup. With a pumpkin I had grown. This thought persisted into the next few days.

I had another try, at the colour orange. I decided to make salsa. Orange Capsicum Salsa.

I very lightly fried a small red salad onion and a chopped garlic clove. Meanwhile, I chopped finely 4 small red tomatoes, an orange capsicum, one small orange chilli, coriander, a tspn Marjoram. I mixed the fried onion & garlic with the rest of ingreds, added lime juice, salt and pepper. I left it for about 5 hours to achieve perfection, then ate it with some Rosemary bread of Friendship and Forgiveness made from a recipe found in “The Villa Della Luna”.

Did you know that according to plant lore, Marjoram will help induce feelings of happiness in women? I think that’s true, Inhale the slightly sweetish smell of marjoram and feel a smile. And what of herbs to induce happiness for men? I’d love readers to tell me of their knowledge of this.

Oh yes! The Salsa was yummy, too. And a nice contrast to the carrot cake, which had left me no longing at all, for cake, for I suspect, a long time. At least next Sunday.

But, still, I thought of Pumpkin Soup. And GROWING PUMPKINS. Yes, this had now achieved Italicised Capital Letter status.

Now, for those of you who’ve just today joined my blog, and maybe haven’t (yet) read my first 2 posts…. as a Therapeutic gardener, I use gardening activities as a means of addressing the needs of people I work with. I may also use the garden as an allegory, a metaphor, when the time is right (stories of that for future blogs).

So if someone really, really wants to grow pumpkins, I would be wondering why. I would perhaps ask “Why do you need pumpkins?” And quite often, after a question like this, a story or thought that is quite telling, emerges. It may revolve around their garden history – past, present or even future. The garden is a place that can encourage a person, even someone who’s reticent, to tell, sometimes indirectly, sometimes surprisingly directly, of a need that exists. Garden allegories can be a safe way to speak.

So I wondered – why my need, my passion for Pumpkins? I thought of their velvety golden flowers. I remembered the strange other-worldly smell of pumpkin leaves. Their soft prickliness. I thought of their dusty and persistent pollen. Their spreading adventurous nature.

I thought of walking along the foreshore of Sandgate after the huge and destructive Floods of early this 2011, seeing smashed furniture, wrecked water tanks, remains of boats ripped from their moorings in Brisbane, and Pumpkins! Whole Pumpkins. I felt sorry for the farmer who had lost a whole crop, but astonished that they were intact, save for a few small dents. Are pumpkins the toughest vegetable on earth?

I remembered pumpkin vines past. My Clermont Grandmothers paddocks with pumpkin vines and paddy melons. Searching among the vines for pumpkins. What excitement when we found one, with withered stalk, ready to pick! My mothers pumpkin vines. My Brisbane grandmothers pumpkin vines. Pumpkin vines I had when my daughter was a little girl. Gosh! A considerable Pumpkin History.

glass-pumpkins

And then, suddenly, there it was. An unhappy pumpkin memory. Of a pumpkin vine that grew in my garden in Brisbane 4-ish years ago. It was gorgeous, climbing, twining, making its way forth energetically, happily. It had flowers. Then I came home and it was gone. Murdered. Such sadness. My partner decided it was untidy, unnecessary. It did not fit his obsessive need for absolute control in our garden. I hung in a while longer, but after I left him, I’ve been somewhat itinerant for a few years. I had a pleasant interlude where I house-sat a house-and-yard-full of plants (over a thousand I believe) for a friend who owned a plant hire business. But itinerant I have felt, for some time.

So what my need for pumpkins told me is that I long to find and create my own home again. A place where with family, friends, a lover, I can sit at little decrepit tables, drink Pinot grigio, or eat carrot cake, surrounded by wild pumpkin vines, purple and yellow passionfruit, ground apple, sweet potatoes, and maybe rescued battery hens, garden quirkily, grow the things I need and love. And then I will have – the pumpkins!

And did I make soup, after this epiphany? Yes, I did. I bought pumpkin and made Pumpkin Soup with Roasted Hazelnuts, my invented recipe. I invited Gordon, we ate it with grainy bread while watching the little mystery birds in the Honey Gem Grevillea in the back yard. While Natasha snoozed.

Lightly roast 1/2 cup hazelnuts. Saute an onion and a garlic clove in olive oil in a saucepan. When onion is soft, add chopped pumpkin, couple florets cauliflower, grated medium carrot, some marjoram, paprika, soya sauce, ( I used about 4 tablespoons), a little salt, pepper, enough water so water level is about 2 inches over the level of veges, and a very small sprinkle of star anise. Cook til all veges soft. Let cool a little. Blend til a grainy texture. Heat and eat.

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I keep a container of cinnamon sticks beside my computer. When I need to refocus, sharpen my attention, I take off the lid and deeply inhale its mysterious scent.

Natasha, the Wonder Cat snoozing.

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“Lilith’s Love Potion Number Eleven-and-a-Half”

I’m loving my bespoke perfume – and so are my dancing partners, hence the name I invented – created by Brisbane perfumier Margi Macdonald. She told me, ‘I thought of you dancing the quickstep, of the colour red, of vivacity. I danced as I mixed Tuberose, Guiacwood from Paraquay, coco, lime, and more. A deep, dark tone emerged, and then I added Vanilla to return the sweetness. ‘

Its gorgeous. Complex. Surprising. An alchemy of dark woody Places, rose scented smoke, almost-sweet citrus, velvet. And made entirely of natural ingredients. Margi can be found at blogsite Some Energy Thing.

Yesterday, I watered Avalene’s garden. I was alone there for the first time, because she died last Monday. She was 85. I feel sad that I can’t garden with her again. I always smiled in anticipation when I was driving to garden with her. She loved gardening and was fun to garden with, we laughed, she engaged me with her beautiful full smile, conversation, talk of her family, daughters named from the garden – Primrose and Marguerite, her son, a granddaughter in Great Britain.

Avalene’s garden was full of history….well over 55 years of history. Some she shared with me, of beloved plants, difficult plants, plants given to her by her daughters, cuttings given and found. She called me when she began to suffer lots of pain in her hands. She said she needed me so that together we could do the garden jobs she wanted to do, but couldn’t quite manage. But never did she give up. She stayed determined to always do some gardening beside me, and together we’d wheel the bin over, she’d carry plants, water, do as much as she could, while directing me. Always excited and grateful when I would bring a few plants, cuttings, offerings from my worm farm.

I remember the day Avalene found the tiny green frog, on her Strelitzia. She was very excited, as she hadn’t seen him, (perhaps her?) for quite a while. She told me to be very careful not to disturb him and maybe he sensed his safety, as he stayed unperturbed while I pruned near to him. I think of and immediately smell intense honey scent of alyssum..purple, white, pink, and some in between. Is there a specially sensitive part of our brain that remembers the scent of flowers? Does anyone know that? Please let me know if you do.

So it was sad, being there alone. Avalene’s spirit is still there though, in the mix of sweet peas, passionfruit, lettuce, chilli bush, blue plumbago, coleus, white crocus, curry plant, pink and yellow Star above Star Camellia, pink and purple bromeliads, brunsfelsia, apricot geraniums, hippeastrums, so many more. A garden as practical, as many faceted as its owner. I picked bright red chillies as a memento.

I plan to take some cuttings of her Camellia, Geranium, Banksia Rose, for her family. Then I thought of my own family, my beloved Daughter, living in Great Britain, who left to go home again only a short week ago. I thought of the lovely and varied time we had together. I also mourned her leaving, as I watered.

The garden is a good place to mourn. And a good place for comfort. Gardening is a continuous cycle of endings and beginnings and who knows which is which. Plants finish a flowering season, but are no less beautiful when deciduous or in seed. Seeds are hope and promise of more of life to come. A new plant with many possibilities – a different hue, size, flower shape. Or perhaps sown in a different place? In the Garden is always hope. Avalene’s funeral service reading had 2 lines that brought tears, yet at the same time comfort, thoughts of the future: ‘ Your heart can be empty because you can’t see her, Or you can be full of the love you share.’

I think about Avalene’s Funeral , where we gathered to honour and celebrate her life. I learned many more things about her, understood what an inspiration she was to her whole family. I admired her, still more. I ask myself, do I live my life in such a way that I will be missed and honoured as much as she was. Now, there’s something to think on. I learned that she went on road trips only a few years ago, with 2 other women, to Darwin! On the road trips they loved listening to “Bright Side of the Road” by Van Morrison. As we walked out from the Garden Chapel where her funeral service was held, we listened to that song, and felt lighter, somehow.

This is the poem written on the back of the order of service:

“Into the freedom of wind and sunshine

We let you go

Into the dance of the stars and the planets

We let you go

Into the wind’s breath and the hands of the starmaker

We let you go.” (Ruth Burgess.)

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On Saturday, I saw ‘Tree of Life” with 2 dear friends. Gosh! we talked for 3 hours afterwards-OK, not all about the film. But surely themes inspired by that…Love, loss, death, dating, food, dancing……I liked the film’s lack of dialogue, I thought it was like being in the garden with someone- where sometimes silence is more eloquent, more able to provoke thought.

In the film I enjoyed how we looked upwards through the trees branches, and looked down through the branches from above. I felt the film was perhaps partly about out our innate need for connection with nature – for comfort, solace, for answers.

Soon I will take afternoon tea with Alzira. I’m taking Thai Rice pudding….OH! The voluptuous smell of Cardoman as I stirred slowly. I could not resist eating a spoonful, OK maybe a few more!

Cardoman is such a mystery…it smells a little like eucalyptus when seeds are intact. Then when crushed and cooked, completely change to a smell that’s sultry, powerful, spicy……….

ingredients:

100g/3 & 1/2 ounces arborio rice

1 cardamon pod, split, and seeds crushed.

300ml/7 fl Oz coconut cream

150ml/10 fl oz water

2 tablespoons honey

coconut flakes and 1 tblspn flaked almonds – to decorate top.

Method:

Put all ingredients except those for decoration, in a saucepan. Stir slowly and constantly till all liquid is absorbed and rice is tender.

Serve warm, with decorations on top. You can serve alongside mixed berries. Definitely serve with cream (or yoghurt if you are feeling very virtuous.)

And….this cutting from a magazine mysteriously appeared on the wall above my computer…“Every act of Creation is first an act of destruction.” Pablo Picasso . To my daughter, who put that here for me to find….thank you for that inspiration.

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